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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A63265 Ostella, or, The faction of love and beauty reconcil'd by I.T., Gent. Tatham, John, fl. 1632-1664. 1650 (1650) Wing T231; ESTC R1695 43,756 124

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OSTELLA Or the FACTION OF LOVE and BEAUTY RECONCIL'D By I. T. Gent. LONDON Printed for John Tey at the White-Lion in the Strand near the New EXCHANGE 1650. To the deservedly Honoured and highly accomplished Sir Richard Hastings Baronet SIR I Am no stranger to your worth though I am to your Person The fame of the one makes me Ambitious to be known to the other It hath been the goodnesse of all Noble Souls to Communicate their Virtues to the feeble by taking them into their Protection The light of which leads me to the boldnesse of sheltring these Poems under your Patronage And though Sir this Presumption may justly Merit your Check yet when your Judgement shall discover their Nakednesse and find how much they need your fence against the storms their own weaknesse may draw upon them your Native Sweetnesse doubtlesse will intercede for and open the Sanctuary to Sir Yours in all humblenesse devoted JOHN TATHAM To the truly Ingenious and promising fulness of Gallantry Kimsmel Lucie Esquire SIR W'Orthy Presents are received for their own value mean ones if at all for his sake that bestows them I will not then dispair of kind Entertainment from you since you have been pleased not to account me unwelcome to your self The favours from your Noble Father and your self Oblieges me to this dutious offering And if you deny not it what you have vouchsafed to me it shall be my care to render my self gratefull by a more worthy Present In the mean time these may serve as Sallats to provoke the Appetite of a young wit I dare not commend them to you to feed on since the smallest fragment that falls from the Banquet of your Fancy the nicest Pallat may feast with And therefore be pleased to admit me if for no intrinsique worth of my own yet in regard I have the virtue to admire yours Your ever Honourer I. T. The Book to the Reader I 'M troubled with no lesse Than the Plague of the Press you see the Spots are on me Yet I would not be crost Lest my Author be lost but I 'd have MERCY VPON ME ERRATA PAge 8. line 3. for orment read torment p. 9. l. 23. for loves r. ●eaves p. 10. l. 4. for heart r. tears p. ●2 l. 19. for hold r. held p. 26. l. 21. for if it be r. if 't be p. 35. l. 19. the too much p. 38. l. 8 for the r. thy l. 29. for best r. blest p. 43. l. 1. for wes r. was p. 44. l. 1. for insection r. infection l. 18. for votury r. votary p. 47. l. 8. for doth r. doe p. 48. l. 4 for 't is r. to 's p. 51. l. 9. for with r. which l. ●3 for All r. He. p. 55. l. 15. for nubrown r. ●utbrown p. 61. l. 6. for sweetnes r. sweets p. 79. l. 4. for its r. it p. 92. l. 18. for the r thy p. 97 l 14. for not r. our l. 20. for as r or p. 98. l. 5. for Lortes r. Lutes l 22. for Milk r Meat p. 100. l. 20 for sight r. sight p. 103 l. 16 for which r. with p. 104. l. 24. for draw r. drown p. 106. l. 12. for just r. mist l 19. for enjoy'd r. envy'd OSTELLA Or The Faction of Love and Beauty Reconciled Upon my first sight of OSTELLA IN what dark world have I entomb'd my sight thus long till now I ne're saw perfect light The Sun his common favours doth dispense aswell unto the Peasant as the Prince Each Ploughman whistles forth Aurora's ray and proudly vaunts an interest in the day The Moon we know doth slender light maintain she 's scarce in the full before she 's in the wain The Stars those petty instruments of light seldome appear but in a frosty night These lights do rule by turns Nor can One take anothers time on or All one light make When here is one whose lustre doth excell all naturall causes heaven on her brow doth dwell Her glori 's still the same and ne're declines but with the self-same Majesty still shines Sure did those Negro's that adore the Sun but feel her temperate heat they soon would shun That Heresie and offer sacrifice to the Celestial vigour of her eys All share not in this blisse she hath the sence to curb by want the common insolence Her beams are lasting such a heat is pure for though her light be sparing it is sure My Resolution REturn me not disdain for if you do By all those nimble Fairies wait on you I will indict you for a witch and tell how you do hang on er'y hair a spell Your brows are Magick circles in each eye where fools think Cupids lodge do spirits lie That in unseen Flames issue forth and kill such your hate pointeth out slaves to your will That in the Dimples of your Cheeks we may discern chain'd hearts kept for your sport who pay Each hour a death yet die not that your breath darts more infection than the spleen of Death That 'twixt those two round hills now to our view lie buried all those hearts your Anger slew That slaughtered hearts you make your chiefest Fare whose dying Groans speak musick in your ear That for your drink y 'ave Lovers bloud and tears distilled through the Limbeck of their fears That when you kisse you Traytor like betray or with it some strong Philtre do convey Yhat after once poor man hath seen your face your Devils will not suffer him to raze It out on 's memory but 't will appear to terrifie him his Hell er'y where That you can walk unseen and so torment poor man he shall not have grace to repent And if these accusations will not take with potent proofs and you a Circe make I must conclude for 't is part of my fear you have bewitch'd the Judge and charm'd his ear And if the Iury find you not Them too yet I will stand it out with them and you Then be advis'd and bribe me with a kisse not of a Killing temper but of blisse For which I l'e change the scene and will acquaint the World you are no Devil but my Saint Ostella discribed LEt others search for Metaphors to raise unto their Mistress Pyramides of praise If mine deserve it shee in time may have it in the mean time 't is labour and ' I le save it Onely without the help of Art as nature hath ornamented her behold her Feature Her hair is lovely brown her Face is fair Her eyes are black her cheeks such colours wear As Art may imitate but not excell her forehead high composed passing well Her nose of modest size her mouth the like her lips are full and red the veins do strike Into Meanders down her Neck and Breast her Brest round plump and white her skin the best That Nature ever blanch'd her fingers small Hand long and white of Person something Tall Her waste of just proportion for a span straight shap'd her feet for